Click on any photo to enlarge all.
The photo prompt this week is Order.
The prompt today is willy-nilly. Now, what would you say the chances would be that I’d have written a poem that already contained that word? If you are thinking practically nil, then you are WRONG! Not only did I write a poem containing “willy-nilly” over two years ago, but it is even in the title. The assignment then was to talk about a holiday created in my honor and to describe it all—music, refreshments, decorations and who would come. Here it is, warts and all:
A Holiday Most Willy-Nilly
My namesake day would be a dilly.
Simply not run-of-the-milly.
For the concert, I’d have Willie
and resurrect Milli Vanilli.
Kind of music? Rock-a-Billy.
For refreshments, I’d serve Chili.
Though the terrain would be most hilly,
they’d travel over rock-and-rilly
for races of both stud and filly,
and poets, fleet of tongue and quilly,
reading poems both sage and silly.

Budding hibiscus. This small bud will turn into a huge orange bloom like the one I showed a few days ago.

That Small Feeling That Something’s Wrong
My intuition sounds its gong.
I have an inkling something’s wrong.
I look around for what’s amiss,
but cannot tell what signals this.
My arm and neck hairs stir and rise,
as if to warn me of surprise.
This tiny hunch keeps me alert,
but insight is a fickle flirt.
When nothing happens, it goes away
and I live out my normal day.
That tiny niggling little prickle
might lead to nought, for insight’s fickle,
and sometimes things are just so small
that they aren’t there at all.
This poem, actually written last year, seemed appropriate both for the “prickle” prompt and for relaying information about the Lone Star Tick just passed on to me by a friend. This tick seems to have supplanted the Lyme disease scare in the Eastern U.S. A friend and her boyfriend have both been bitten by it and have developed the meat allergy. More grist for the worry mill: http://www.popsci.com/lone-star-tick-meat-allergy
The prompt today was prickle. The image was copied from the internet.
See poem below flower collage. (All photos by jdb. Please click on first photo to enlarge all.)
Don’t Pick the Daisies
Please leave those daisies in their wrapper.
I find them just too pert and dapper.
I prefer a floral decoration
prone to promote excitation.
I’d choose something a little queer
to be used as a boutonniere.
Yes, I agree, daisies are cute
but aren’t held in good repute
for inclusion in bouquets exotic.
They aren’t sufficiently chaotic.
All their little petals are spread
in order. They are too well-bred.
I like my flowers with frisky sproutings,
curling ‘rounds and sticking-outings––
birds of paradise well hung
with orange feathers and bright blue tongue.
I admit, I am a binger
on passionflower and wild ginger,
on orchid and bromeliad.
Daisies I find a little sad––
too Doris Day and sixtyish.
A bit of odd is what I wish
for when I choose to pick a flower
for an arrangement or a bower.
Give me heliconia,
proteus or begonia.
For an occasion that is formal,
daisies, dear, are just too normal.
For my mother Pat who liked her food plain and her flowers exotic. XOXOXO
https://dutchgoesthephoto.net/2018/02/06/tuesday-photo-challenge-exotic/
This poem and floral collage were prompted by an earlier post in answer to Cee’s Flower of the Day prompt.
First Step
When I’m feeling frail and iffy,
what revives me in a jiffy
is a tiny bit of sinning—
a little chocolate or ginning.
There’s nothing wrong with using them
unless one is abusing them.
And an abuser I am not.
(Except, perhaps, for chocolate!!!!)
The prompt today was jiffy.
(Click on first photo to enlarge all. All photos by jdb.)
For Paula’s “Pick a Word” Challenge. The word I chose was “motley.”
https://bopaula.wordpress.com/2017/08/10/thursdays-special-pick-a-word-in-august-y2/